Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Green Hill Park

As far as fifteen seconds can take you
up-hill at a sprint,
you are not a boy any longer,
not your body,
as you wait for the return of your breath
at the base of the hill with eyes downcast
broken glass, a used condom, the thick smell
of marijuana seems to have settled in to
this valley even though
there is no one else

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